Withdrawal
by childish-kel
Summary: A Canada without maple syrup is like an America without hamburgers or a Russia without vodka. It's the kind of situation that you would never wish upon the world. Canada is no longer the nation we used to know. **Both names used.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Matthew Williams, also known as Canada, was having a major crisis. All you had to do was take one look inside his house to know that there was something very wrong. Usually Matthew kept a clean house. It was something he took pride in. But the state of his home it was…well it was total chaos.

All drawers were pulled out, their contents spilled all over the floor. Chairs were tipped over, tables over turned. The couches had their pillows pulled off, and most had the stuffing pulled out of them. The carpet was pulled up in some places and even the walls had holes that had been made by a few of the nearby chairs and had then been enlarged so much that you could see into the other room. It looked like the place had been robbed. But there was no sign of any break-in. That's because there wasn't one. Matthew Williams did this himself.

It all started in the kitchen. He had decided to make himself a late-night snack of pancakes and of course, maple syrup. His polar bear was sound asleep underneath the kitchen table, just having finished his late night snack of salmon and gummy bears. Matthew had just finished sliding the pancakes onto his plate, when he went in search of the maple syrup. He checked the fridge, the cupboards, underneath the sink, even in the garbage can, thinking he might of accidently knocked the bottle of the precious liquid into the trash. It was no where to be found. This was not the first time Matthew had forgotten to buy maple syrup. A quick stop to the grocery store was all that needed to be done, and then he could enjoy his snack. It turned out not to be that simple.

Since it was late night, there were few places that were still open. He knew off by heart which stores carried maple syrup, and which didn't. He went to the first store, but apparently the store was shorted the product, and didn't have any in the store. He thanked the staff at the store for checking, and made his way to the next 24h store. By this time, Matthew was starting to feel a little pang in his stomach. But he knew that once he got some of that liquid gold into his system, his stomach would be back to normal in no time.

When he entered the next store, he made a beeline to the back aisle, but where the maple syrup should have stood, was just an empty hole. He ran up to the customer service counter and asked if they had any in stock. The cashier shook her head no. Apparently a couple of kids had been in earlier and decided to 'accidently' bump into the shelf, knocking down the products onto the floor. The store only carried maple syrup in the glass containers, so when they fell, they all broke. Starting to feel anxious, Matthew just nodded, and briskly walked out of the store. He had to restrain himself from running to his car, and had to keep on reminding himself of the speed limits. But there was still one more store. And Matthew was sure, that this one would have the syrup. After all, it makes perfect sense that the last store that he goes to would have it in stock.

After all, it makes perfect sense that last store would not have it in stock. In fact, they had stopped carrying it all together. The stock boy said that they had to stop carrying maple syrup because it had become so expensive. He continued to explain that due to global warming, farmers were having a difficult time collecting enough sap to create the maple syrup. After nearly fainting, Matthew excused himself, and throwing away all restraint, ran right out of the store, jumped into his car, and sped out of the parking lot, and headed back to his house. This time he did not care about the speed limit. He didn't even care about the other motorists. All Matthew cared about was getting home, and finding a bottle of the increasingly rare product.

Failing to find any in his home, even after pulling up the carpet, Matthew collapsed onto his bed and had to keep on telling himself that this was not the end of the world. That he could go out tomorrow and buy some. But then he remembered that there is a world meeting in Russia and he has to be on a plane in an hour. No time to buy maple syrup at any of the stores. Unless he would be able buy some at the airport gift shop. Unfortunately he was not going to be using the public airport. His was being driven right to his own private plane. Dragging himself off of his bed, Matthew began to pack for his three day trip to Russia. He could only hope that Ivan would carry some in his stores. If not, Matthew was sure it was going to be okay. He would be fine. There would be no problem whatsoever. That's what he kept telling himself anyway.

**Hello everyone! Thank you for reading. I apologize for my lack of talent, I know I am not the best writer. But I am hoping to make this into a couple chapters, unless of course I die or completley lose interest. Which ever comes first. Anyways, any reviews, positive or negative is appreciated. I want to know what you think. Again, thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**I am avoiding time differences just because it gives me a headache. If you can find it in your heart to look over the blatant lack of logic I would appreciate it. I really hate technicalities. XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

When Arthur found out that the next world meeting would be taking place in Russia, he was ecstatic. Sure, he was absolutely terrified of Ivan…who in their right mind wouldn't be? But this brought on an opportunity that could not be ignored. Along with the message that the meeting would be taking place in Russia, Ivan included a note that there would be seating arrangements, and that if any nation broke the seating plan, they would have to answer to Ivan alone…in a dark room…to become 'one' with Russia. Arthur was quite sure that this threat was due to Ivan's little sister, Belarus.

It was not uncommon knowledge that Belarus would only be too happy to break the seating arrangement and take on Ivan, but with the other nations deathly afraid of Russia, she would be hard pressed to find someone to switch with her. England had to admire the other nations' planning. It was a sure way to keep order in the meeting, (for some reason every meeting involved massive fights over who sits where and next to who), and to keep his sister far away from him as possible. Arthur just prayed that he was not stuck sitting next to the crazy girl.

So with the seating arrangement in place, Arthur finally had a situation that he could finally put that loud-mouth American bastard back in his place. This time, Ivan would not be the one sitting in Busby's chair, causing the chair to break. This time it would be Alfred to finally sit in the chair. Oh, Arthur knew that because Alfred is a nation, he could not be killed by the chair's curse, but he would be seriously hurt and would probably be out of commission for a couple of weeks, giving the world (Arthur) some much needed rest. But because the chair was so badly damaged by the last time Ivan sat in it, it needed lots of repairs that would take lots of time. Thankfully, Ivan was courteous enough to send the dates weeks in advance, allowing England to have the time he needed to make the proper repairs and to fine tune his plan.

It had taken a quite a bit of explaining at the airport as to why he needed to bring an old and badly damaged chair to Russia. He had to lie and say that it was a piece of history, and belonged to one of the members of a past monarchy. It took some paper work, but that was a lot better than telling them that it was actually a cursed chair that he was going to use to hurt someone with. Arthur had to give the airport staff explicit instructions to _not _touch the chair directly, that the cover must remain on the chair at all times. And to _not_ even _think_ about sitting in the chair or else they would face the consequences of their actions. He just didn't say what those consequences were exactly.

Finally arriving in Russia, Arthur had his chair shipped to the hotel where the meeting was being held, giving the same instructions to the deliverymen. Not wasting any time after arriving at the hotel, Arthur went straight to his room where the chair would be waiting. Opening his carry-on, Arthur grabbed a roll of tape that he had used to patch up Busby's chair, and a small serrated knife. He put the two items in a paper bag, and then placed the bag underneath his shirt. He then grabbed two latex gloves from his carry on, and put them on. He was not going to risk any skin getting exposed to the deathly chair. Arthur opened the door of his hotel room, looking up and down the hallway, making sure that no one was coming. Satisfied that the coast was clear, Arthur grabbed the back of the chair, and dragged it out of his room. Making sure to close the door behind him, with the 'Do not disturb' sign hanging from the handle, he made his way to the elevators.

He pushed the down arrow, and waited for the elevator to arrive, praying that no one would be in it. As a small bell rang, the doors opened to reveal an empty space. Arthur grinned from ear to ear, the Gods are on his side this time. Muttering a quick thanks to the powers that be, Arthur brought the chair into the elevator, and pressed the button for the second floor, where all conferences where held in the hotel. The ride down seemed to drag on forever, as the ominous aura of the chair began to spread around the confined space. Gulping nervously, England anxiously awaited for the second floor, and as the doors opened, he was quick to bring the chair out into more the more open space, so it's presence was not felt so much. Again, making sure that there were no other people around, England slowly made his way to the room where the world meeting was to be held later on.

He opened the door of the conference room slowly, a stream of light breaking into the dark room, slightly blocked as the blonde haired man peaked his head through the crack. He did a quick look around, and when he was satisfied that there was no body in the room, he pushed the door open even wider.

With a flip of the light switch, Arthur Kirkland illuminated the room that he was in ever so slightly, just enough that he could see what he was doing, but not so bright that could cause any unwanted attention. For what Arthur was about to do is of utmost cruelty and completely inhumane, that he sure if any nation walked in on him, they would put a stop to his plans.

Around the custom made table there were little slips of paper, that on closer inspection, Arthur realized that they had the names of the nations on them.

"Alright. Now to fine that idiot America's place."

It took awhile, but he was finally able to locate Alfred's chair. He dragged Busby's chair to the location, and switched the seats.

"Stage one…complete."

For the second part of his devious plan, Arthur brought out the bag that was hidden underneath his shirt. Arthur knew that Alfred was still wary of Ivan, and would be on extra high alert for the duration of his stay. For a complete moron in most areas, Alfred was quite attune to threats to his personal being. Arthur bet it had to do with all of those conspiracy theorists that resided in that country. If Alfred was to notice that only his chair was damaged, then Arthur's planning would all have been for nothing. So, for the next half-hour, Arthur was systematically slicing and taping various chairs through out the room.

Matthew's trip to Russia was by far the most unpleasant experience he had in his whole entire life. Not only was there a delay in take off…who knew cows would like to wander onto the runway? But Matthew found out that his hidden supply of that sugary goodness had evaporated! Never, not even in his worst nightmares, had Matthew even imagined something like this could happen. It was like the whole worlds supply of maple syrup disappeared.

But here he was, he made it in one piece. He left the terminal, heading down to the street to grab a cab that could take him to the nearest store. He could not go through a whole world meeting without some sort of form of maple in his system. Even if it was that god awful simulation maple syrup, Matthew would take anything he can get his hands on.

As he went outside, Matthew felt something very large and very heavy run into him.

"MATTIE!!! THANK GOD YOU'RE HERE!!"

That something very large was indeed, America.

'Why am I not surprised?' Matthew thought to himself, as he pried his brother off of him.

"Nice to see you Alfred. Now, could you please get off of me…before I suffocate?"

Alfred loosened the hold he had on his brother, but did not let go. "I'm so happy I found you little bro! I mean, now that I have my little sidekick-"

"What sidekick?"

"-I can be the hero and save everyone from that bastard Ivan! Come on Mattie! You know…I'm the hero and you are my sidekick. I'm Batman, and you are Boy Wonder. I have an awesome utility belt, I get to save all the damsels in distress, I get to kick bad guy butt, and you get to watch!"

Matthew could only stare at his brother. The headache that he had since the plane ride earlier began to grow tenfold every single time his brother opened his mouth.

"Alfred…" Matthew began, only to be interrupted by his brother.

"Oh, guess what! Iggy said that he would meet us at the hotel. So we better get a move on. And hey, did you hear? We are going to Mars baby!"

"Alfred, I don't think that's going to happen…"

"What do you mean it's not going to happen? Of course it is. I am the hero, and a hero always has a plan. I have Tony to help out with the space travel and all that jazz."

"You mean that alien that no one else has seen?"

"Tony is real Matt. Jeez, I'm not like Iggy. I don't have imaginary friends. Hey, if Tony wasn't real, why doesn't he like Iggy huh? I mean, every time Tony sees Arthur he flips out man! I have to lock him away in another room. Oh! I almost forgot! I made a new superhero outfit! It is so totally cool. It has a red cape with…"

Matthew was becoming more and more irritated. The only thing that was keeping him from lashing out at his brother is the fact that a happy American is way more pleasant than a crying American. And Matthew knew that if he began to rant now, they would be late for the first day of the meeting. So, he kept his mouth shut, and tried his best to ignore the constant nonsense that came out of his brother.

"…and there is going to be a giant robot that will be able to shoot lasers out of his eyes. Isn't that totally amazing? Hey Matt, look at the time. We're going to be late. Come on, let's share a cab."

The thought of spending time with Alfred in a confined space did not sit well with Matthew. "No, it's okay. I'll grab another cab."

"Don't be ridiculous bro. Come on, grab your bags. There's one that's free." Alfred grabbed the Canadian's wrist, ignoring the protests that were coming out of his brother, and ran to the nearest free cab. He practically threw his brother into the cab, nearly causing Matthew to bash his head into the opened car door. The American went to the back of the trunk and dumped both his and Matthew's luggage in. After slamming the back down, earning himself a glare from the cab driver, Alfred jumped in beside his brother, who was trying currently trying to open the other passenger door without any luck.

"Hey driver can you take us to…" Alfred looked down at a piece of paper that had the address of the hotel on it. But for the life of him he couldn't pronounce the name. So, he just waved the piece of paper in front of the drivers face. "Take us to this place."

Matthew groaned.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm back! So sorry it took so long. If procrastination was The Force, I would be Yoda.

* * *

France, also known as Francis Bonnefoy, was waiting in the hotel lounge for Canada and America to arrive. To pass the time, he decided to have a glass of Ivan's favourite drink, vodka. In Francis's opinion, his wine was much more palatable, though he would never say that to the Russian's face.

France sighed, waiting was not one of his favourite pastimes. He looked around the room, trying to find someone he could work his French charm on. He was bored, and there was no other better way to get rid of boredom than seducing the members of the human race, be male or female. But the room was still quite empty, and the people that were there were so unfortunate looking, Francis almost gave up until he spotted a blond bushy-browed man, his favourite target, walk into the room.

Arthur sat down at the bar a couple of seats away from Francis, not noticing the other nation there, and ordered himself a rum. A small silly smile adorned his face, he was still quite pleased with himself that he accomplished his task. When the bartender placed his drink in front of him, Arthur thanked the man and brought the glass to his lips. He was barely able to get some of the amber liquid into his mouth when he felt a presence behind him, and a hand that was not his own go south…way south.

Startled, Arthur jumped up, sloshing his drink all over the counter. "Bloody hell! Who the fuck?" Arthur looked behind and saw a very satisfied and very mischievous looking Frenchman beside him. He felt like pounding the other nation into oblivion, but Arthur reasoned that he should not draw any attention to himself this meeting "You? When did you get here?"

"Before you." Francis stated. He was slightly surprised that he did not get physically abused after his ventures into the Brit's pants, but Francis had noticed Arthur's rather unusual happy expression when he sat down, and he wanted to know what could ever put him into such a good mood. "Why are you in such good spirits my friend?"

Arthur glowered at Francis. "I was in good spirits. Now, thanks to you, they are all over the counter."

France groaned at the pun, but decided not comment. Instead he went for high road. "I apologize mon cher. Here, let me buy you a new drink." Francis waved over the bartender and ordered Arthur another rum.

Arthur took the glass, and wasted no time getting the alcohol into his system. Satisfied with his drink, Arthur turned his attention back to Francis. "Why are you here? I thought you enjoyed places with much larger crowds.

"I am waiting for our boys." Francis looked down at his wrist watch. "They are late."

"Well that's not unusual is it? Alfred gets distracted so easily. And…umm…the other one sleeps in all the time." Arthur replied, blushing slightly at the fact that he still couldn't remember the other nation's name.

France was about to remind England that the 'other one' was Canada, when a loud voice rang out in the lobby.

"THE HERO IS HERE!"

England and France exchanged looks. There was only one person in the whole world that would spurt out a line like that. They both sprinted to the lobby, and sure enough there was America standing at the reception desk, asking the woman who was working the counter where the nearest McDonald restaurant was located. When the woman told him that there were no McDonalds in the area, America was about to go on his rant about communism when he spotted England and France out of the corner of his eye.

The thoughts of hamburgers and communism were momentarly pushed aside as he went to go and greet his friends. "Iggy! Frenchie! What's up? When did you both get here? I guess that means that I didn't make it here first. Oh well, like they say, you have to lose some to win some. Guess what awesome new idea I got for global warming? Since my superhero idea didn't go over so well, I think we should try this idea that I got from television. Basically all we have to do is get all the people of earth to go to a certain place, and jump at the exact same time! The force will cause the earth to move farther away from the sun! I got to say, it is a genius move. Fool proof. "

England glared at his former colony. He wanted to smack America upside the head and call him a moron, and to NOT CALL HIM IGGY…but he maintained his cool. "Sounds…sounds like an interesting idea America."

France looked down at England, shocked that he would say such a thing. He was about to question England's sanity when he noticed that they were still a member short. "America…where is Canada?"

All three looked around, neither one seeing the other nation. Suddenly, the hotel doors opened, revealing a very disgruntled Canadian. He carried a suitcase in each hand, one had the Canadian flag, the other the American. He looked around the room, and spotted his family. Narrowing in on America, Canada stormed toward the trio, and when he was close enough, he tossed America's suitcase in the air. Experienced with catching objects with his hands, America caught it with ease.

"Hey! What's with you Matt? You could have just handed it to me- HEY!" America stopped talking when Canada began poking him in the chest. "You left me…" he poked America.

"…in the cab…" another, more aggressive poke.

"…with the bill…" and another.

"…and NO money. I had to give the man my wrist watch before he let me go."

After spending a long and tiring cab ride to the hotel with his brother, Canada couldn't wait to get out of the vehicle, and go to his room where he can order room service. He had remembered on the ride in that Russia had sent a memo, requesting each nation's favourite food so he could include it on the menu. Canada thought it was uncharacteristically kind of the Russian to offer that kind of service at the time, but now he was eternally thankful. He had, of course, mentioned maple syrup.

The car had barely pulled up to the curve when America bolted out of the car, yelling something about hamburgers, leaving Canada with a very frustrated Russian cab driver. Apparently, Canada wasn't the only one who was being bothered by the American. The man would not let Canada out of the car until he had payment. He tried to explain that he didn't have any money on him, and that if he could just go inside, he would get some to pay the driver.

Not believing him, the driver replied that if Canada didn't have any money, he would have to pay with something else.

Canada didn't have any valuables on himself except for the watch that he had gotten as a birthday gift from Australia a couple months ago. And of course, the driver had already taken notice of the fancy watch, and that was the 'something else' he was referring to. Canada reluctantly gave away the present, vowing to make America pay for what he was being forced to do, and exited the car. He went to the trunk of the car to grab his luggage, and seriously considered to 'forget' his brother's bag. But, in the end, Canada decided to grab the second bag, it would just make life worse if he had to listen to America complain on how the Russia was trying to 'get him'.

Canada looked on as the cab driver drove away with his watch. This was turning out to be the worst day in the history of his entire life. He had no maple syrup, he had a headache, his mood was becoming more and more sour by the second…basically it was the brewing of a perfect storm.

He turned around, and entered into the hotel, determined that someway, somehow, his brother would pay dearly, and gods help whoever stood in his way.

"Oh gosh…sorry Mattie. I wasn't thinking…I'll give to a new watch I swear! And hey, it'll be even better than your other one! I promise Matt. Hero's honour."

Not really satisfied, but knowing that was all he was going to get from his brother, for now, Canada nodded. He turned to greet the other two when France pulled him into a hug.

"Oh my dear Mathieu. You should have called my cell, and I would have given you the money! Ah, but enough of that, you look horrible!"

France held Canada at arm's length, examining the nation from top to bottom. "You have dark circles underneath your eyes…your gorgeous hair is a mess…your clothes are in disarray…Mon cher, are you not following the beauty techniques I taught you as a child? You are being to look like that punk England!"

Ignoring the outraged 'hey' that came from said England, France pulled Canada back into the hug. "Remember, you can come to Papa with anything." France said, his voice changing from the tone of a concerned friend, to a more seductive tone. "Anything at all…" France continued, as his hands moved south to slightly squeeze the soft curves of Canada's bottom.

Before Canada could even react, he felt himself being pulled away from France by England. "Leave the poor boy alone you french pervert!" England and France began to argue, but with a couple of 'Ahem' and 'Excuse me' from the hotel staff that finally decided to intervene, the two arguing nations made their way to the elevator, completely forgetting the two that they were leaving behind.

Watching the others leave them behind, Canada and America made their way to the receptionist counter to get their room keys.

America looked at his twin, and he knew that Canada still quite pissed at the whole situation. Feeling guilty, America slung an arm over Canada's shoulders and gave his twin his most sincere apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry about the cab Matt. You do know that I never meant to do that…I just do stupid things like that. I'm so sorry."

For once, Canada believed his brother. How could he stay angry when America was genuinely sorry? No matter how bad he was feeling Canada knew deep down he had to forgive his brother.

But before Canada could even say he was forgiven, America went and assumed that all was well. Then, to make matters worse, America patted Canada on the back, in what was supposed to be a brotherly tap. But with America's strength it wasn't just a tap, it was a full out blow that knocked Canada to the floor. And if that wasn't bad enough, it caused his glasses to fly off his face and slide across the polished marble floor.

Not noticing the damaged he caused, America called out a 'Thanks Matt' over his shoulder as he bolted toward the elevator, catching up to arguing duo, unwittingly crushing Canada's glasses beneath his feet, and leaving the Canadian sprawled on the floor.

_To hell with forgiveness. _Canada thought to himself as he lay on the cool floor. _I'll get that bastard and anyone else who dares cross my path. _

He stood up slowly, his face hardened into an expression that had not been seen in more than sixty years. _As god is my witness, they will rue the day they decided to forget about Matthew Williams!_

He made his way to the elevators, not realizing that he was being watched.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Again I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I will try my hardest to update sooner...but the force is just to strong....(It doesn't help that I have other ideas bopping around in my little mind that are begging to be written.)

Anways, yes, I am sorry for the shortness as well. It seems I am physically unable to write more than 2,000 words at a time. In the immortal words of Philip J. Fry 'It took an hour to write, I thought it would take an hour to read.'

And sorry for the randomess of names. Sometimes I use the countries, sometimes I use human names...they just kinda pop out depending on the mood I'm in.

So...please review. Criticism or praise, I want to hear your thoughts. Well, read your thoughts actually.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own Hetalia.

The memory was still clear in Germany's mind.

He was posted at Saint-Aubin-sur-Mer on that day. He was there to check up on his troops. It was supposed to be a quick easy task. But then they came.

It took a moment for it to sink in that his soldiers were being attacked, but when the initial shock wore off, he gave the order to fire.

It was hell, the enemy was firing back, advancing slowly. His men began to retreat, but Germany told them to hold their ground.

He ordered them to continue to fire at the invading forces. He saw lots of them fall to the sandy beach, but there was more. They kept on advancing.

Germany went to the front line, to see who exactly was attacking them. It was then he noticed a man that stood out from the rest of them.

The uniform was the same. The man carried the same gun as his comrades. He was no bigger or smaller then the others, but when Germany saw his face, and the look in his eyes, he knew that he had just met _him._

It was after the Great War when Germany began to hear tales of a group of men that seemed to fight more fiercely, more ferociously than any that they had met before. Germany remembered that his men had called them the Shock Troops, and that they were being led by a man who seemed to be no ordinary human. Germany had asked them to describe this man, but all he got out of them was that it was a man, barely out of boyhood, with violet eyes and a savage look upon his face. When he asked them what country they came from, his men could only shake their heads. They didn't recognize the flag, but knew that they had spoke English and a bit of French during their battle. Germany knew that there was a country above America that had two languages, but he couldn't remember what it was. All Germany could do was hope any pray that his men wouldn't encounter them ever again.

But now, here he was, standing in front of a man that matched the description his men had given him all those years ago. In fact, it matched the description too well. This man had violet eyes, and still looked like a teenager.

Germany did a quick calculation in his head, and he slowly realized that his men were right. That man from long ago was more than human, he was a nation. From the time of the Great War to now was almost thirty years, and for a human, thirty years was a very long time, but for a nation, it could just be a drop in the bucket.

Suddenly Germany felt the barrel of his enemy's gun pressed up against his chin. Germany was startled at how quickly the other man moved. It was like he disappeared, and then reappeared right underneath his nose.

Germany looked down to meet death in the face, and had only one question to ask the man who had his life in his hands. He had barely gotten the last syllable out when the butt of the gun met with his head and as his world went black, his last words echoed in his mind.

'_Who are you…?'_

When he woke, Germany was in a medic tent being tended by his own men. His officers explained how he was found unconscious by one of their camps, and that a sealed letter was found in one of his pockets. Germany demanded to see this letter, and once he had it in his hand, he ordered everyone out of the tent.

The letter read:

_Dear Germany, _

_I apologize about hitting you on the head, but it really was the only way to get you out safely. _

_Today is the turning point of this war. You may not realize it now, but soon you will. I saved your life in hopes that when we win (and we will I promise you that) you will still be around. In my opinion, the death of a nation and of an entire culture is a devastating blow to humanity and our world. Too many of our kind have been lost to war. Too many lives destroyed because they no longer have a place to call home. It has to stop and it has to stop now. _

_See you on the other side. _

_MW_

_P.S. Again, I apologize for hitting you on the head. _

Germany placed the letter down on his lap. He stared off into the distance, processing what he had just read. He sighed, and glanced down at the letter again, rereading, still trying to make sense of it all. Never had he met a nation like this one before. This man actually apologized for knocking him unconscious, and if the letter is anything to go by, he wants peace…something that Germany had almost forgotten.

And now, here he was, sixty odd years later, standing in a hotel in Russia staring at the nation he had met so long ago.

But why was there such a murderous look on his face? The one who wanted peace so long ago looked like he was going in to start war. Germany did not know what could cause this unknown nation to go over the edge, but he had to go find out.

Germany was about to make his way to the elevator when he was tackled from behind, and his vision went black.

Canada entered the elevator and hit the number for his floor. As the elevator went up, Canada thought of ways how to get back at his brother.

He could put a sheet over his head and pretend to be a ghost…but that was too childish and would not have lasting effects.

He could make America eat England's cooking, but again once the after taste went away America would have forgotten his lesson.

What could he do to America…what could he do…

And then it hit him. Oh the most wonderful most sinister most evil thing ever. Canada smiled a most daring smile, and a small high pitched giggle escaped his lips.

It was perfect.

There was something on his back, and something wrapped around his eyes.

"Hey Ludwig~! Did you miss me? Huh? Did you? Did you?"

Or rather, someone.

"Please get off of my back Feli."

Germany felt the young man slid himself down his back, and before he could say another word, a steaming hot plate of pasta was nearly shoved up his nose.

"I made it especially for you. See? The noodles are made out of potatoes…interesting no? And the sauce is gravy. And wait until you try the sausage, it is your favourite. Can you guess? Wurst! It took me a long time, and to be perfectly honest it doesn't taste at all like pasta. Actually, it kinda tasted like England's cooking. Hmm…maybe I should redo this. I know! Maybe if I ask Francis he can help."

Germany could feel a headache growing right between his temples. This was not the time for cooking. This was about saving the world! He was just going to have to tell the nation that this just was not the time to be discussing pasta.

"Feli…"

"Ah, but Gilbert said that I was to avoid Francis at all times. I wonder why? He is good at cooking and he teaches me lots of stuff about this thing called in-tar-caouse. Oh well, if Gilbert says not too, I guess he has a good reason."

"Feli…"

"Yes?"

The brunette looked up into the blue eyes of Germany. So innocent, so happy. It really did pain Germany to bring down his friend.

"Now is not the time to be talking about pasta, ok? There is something more important-"

"What?"

Germany looked down, and where his friend once stood was now a demon. Italy stood with his legs shoulder width apart, and in his hand he held a white flag on a pole. But instead of the usual antics of Italy waving the flag, he held the less known about, but equally handmade shank that was on the other end.

"Did you just say…that pasta was unimportant?"

Germany took a couple of steps back. This was not good, not good at all. He had forgotten how sinister Italy could become if his beloved pasta was insulted in anyway.

"N-no Feli. I just mean that umm…uhh…you don't have to try and change pasta to my liking."

Italy lowered his weapon slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that pasta, is ahh…ha…perfectly perfect already."

Germany could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead. He stood at ready, ready to run for the hills if Italy did not like his excuse.

Suddenly, like if someone just turned on the light, Italy smiled his usual childish smile.

"Well if that's what you meant all along Ludwig~, you should of just said so in the first place! Come on, let's go upstairs!"

Germany let out a sigh of relief, knowing full well that he had just dodged a bullet. He was about to go upstairs, when he noticed another nation walk into the lobby, and then into the lounge. Suddenly, an idea came to him. He would just have to shake off Italy for a couple of minutes so he could get his answers.

"I'll be upstairs in a minute. I just got to go and check in."

"Okay~!" Italy grabbed his bag, and headed for the elevators. Germany watched, and once he was sure that Italy was not coming back out, he headed to the lounge where the other nations were sitting earlier.

He looked around the room. There was a lot more people in the room than before, but lucky for him, he was able to find the person he was looking for with no problem.

It wasn't hard to miss a Chinese man with a ponytail, shaking so hard that the chair he was sitting on was rattling against the floor (You would be too if Russia decided to send you an extra memo on how they were finally going to become 'one' after the meeting).

Germany briskly walked to his fellow nation. He cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the personification of China.

China looked up from his drink, his shaking ceasing once he realized that it was Germany, not Russia who was standing right beside him. "Ludwig? What are you doing here? W-would you like a seat?"

The German nation nodded and took the seat next to him. They both sat in silence for a good minute, when Germany finally asked his question.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I know that you are a very old and wise nation, Yao. I need to know…what would cause a nation to loose his temper?"

Startled by the question, but happy to answer anyway, China gave him the standard reasons.

"War. Economic Crisis. Famine…there are lots of causes." China raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of his drink.

Germany shook his head. "There is nothing like that…or nothing extreme in any of those cases."

China's eyes widened. "You mean…nothing? Nothing to do with the country itself?"

Again Germany shook his head no.

China grabbed Germany roughly by his shoulders. "Listen to me, and listen well. What I am about to tell you will not leave this room, do you understand?"

This time, Germany nodded his head yes.

"Well you see…"

A/N: Oh. My. God. I'm sorry for the lateness...I'm sorry for the lousyness...But this is the best that I could come up with. Please, don't kill me.

Anyways...as usual please review. It is important for me to hear some feedback so I can improve. I appreciate them all.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did there would be a lot more Canada.

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China looked to his right and to his left…if what he was about to say was overheard it could be a catastrophe.

Satisfied that everyone else was not paying any attention to the two nations, Yao leaned in toward Germany.

"It has no proper name, but it is a...a well for the lack of a better word I would say it is a quirk, or better yet, an addiction of sorts. We are not truly human, but we have all of their emotions, and on top of it we feel whatever they feel. When they are sick, so are we. When they are all angry at something, so are we. And it isn't just our people who we are tied to. When there is a natural disaster or war, something that harms our land, we are physically hurt."

Germany nodded in agreement. "I know all of this already." he interrupted. "But like I said there is nothing happening to his land or his people."

China put up his hand. "Let me finish Ludwig. What we as nations have to go through on a daily basis can extremely stressful, and though we are not like normal humans, we are closer to them than we sometimes like to think. We need something to deal with the stress, something that calms us down, like they do. But for the most part, we do not realize that we do this."

China paused for a moment, trying to think of a good example.

"Like the young Italy brothers. Have you ever seen North Italy without a plate full of pasta nearby or South Italy without tomatoes?"

Germany recalled how his companion reacted earlier in the lobby. "When I said that pasta was not important to Feli, he changed. It was like he could rip off my head."

China nodded. "I remember when the leader of the UN mentioned that there may be a shortage of grain, and therefore pasta noodles would be harder to come by, the young Italian nearly throttled the poor man. My point is what Feli uses to calm himself down is pasta. It is what prevents the stress from becoming overwhelming."

Germany nodded in understanding. "So you think that Mr. Canada is suffering from withdrawal right now?"

"That is exactly what I am thinking. Unfortunately figuring out the problem is the easy part. Finding out what Mr. Canada needs and getting it here is going to be hard. I am not well acquainted with him, and I don't think many people are. Do you know him at all?"

Germany shook his head no.

China sighed. "I guess I could go and ask Mr. America about Mr. Canada seeing as how they are brothers."

Germany nodded. "Mr. England may also know what to do." He began to raise himself up from his chair when China lifted his right hand, motioning for Germany to stay.

"Try France first. He is more likely to give us information than England is. England doesn't like to talk about his colonies all that much."

Germany nodded. "I will go and find him." Germany stood up from his chair and was about to walk away when he paused and looked back down at China. "How bad do you think things will get if we aren't able to find what Mr. Canada needs?"

China also stood up from his chair and looked up at the blonde nation. "Let's not find out."

And with that, the two nations went their separate ways.

In another part of the hotel, in a dark room that was illuminated only by the soft flicker of a dozen televisions, a certain Russian wassmiling at a monitor that had recorded the entire conversation.

Russia, also known as Ivan, was enjoying himself. This is why he had every common area in and around the hotel bugged. You never know what information you might overhear, and Russia just heard an earful.

He leaned back on his chair, and reached for the remote that was to his left, and clicked off the monitor. On his right there is a table that held only two items, an empty glass and an almost equally empty bottle of vodka. Russia reached for the bottle, ignoring the glass. An event like this deserved a drink straight out of the bottle. Downing the rest of the clear liquid in one swing, Russia stood up and was about to leave the room when something on another monitor caught his attention. It was Mr. Canada walking down a hallway with a rather evil look on his face.

Intrigued, Russia sat back down to see exactly what the young nation was up to. He saw Canada stop and began to talk to someone who Russia couldn't see due to the angle of the camera. Frustrated, Russia checked out the other monitors to see if one of their cameras covered that blind spot. None of them did, so Russia turned the volume up on that screen, and was able to catch the tail end of the conversation.

_Canada: "I saw the seating arrangement. He is sitting right next to your future fiancé."_

_Unknown person: "This is unacceptable! He knows I must be the only one at his side!"_

Russia felt a cold chill run down his back. It couldn't be?

_Canada: "Then you must have a 'little talk' with my brother."_

_Unknown person: "I will kill him. He will rue the day he came between me and my true love."_

Russia began to shake. "No…NO! NO! NO! Not her!"

_Canada: "Well Belarus, I'm sorry I must be going, I have to get ready for the meeting. Oh, and America is probably down in the dining area, eating an inhuman amount of hamburgers at the moment. I wouldn't waste anytime getting down there…I don't know how long he is going to be there for, and the meeting will be starting soon."_

Belarus had moved forward, so now she was fully visible on the screen.

_Belarus: "Thank you Mr. Canada."_

_Canada: "Oh no Belarus, thank you. And I hope you and Russia have a wonderful life together."_

Belarus nodded, and began to quickly walk down the hallway, pulling her knife out of only god knows where, and began her hunt for America.

Safe (for now) in his room Russia scrambled for his bottle of vodka and took a swig, only to realize that his bottle is empty. He was about to go look for another bottle when he notice that Canada was still standing in the hallway, and that he was looking directly into the camera.

Canada took a few steps closer to the camera. He looked up into the lens, tilted his head slightly to the left, and with a grin that could rival the one of Hannibal Lecter, he spoke.

"_This is what you get Russia…you should of never forgotten about me."_

And with that Canada went down the hallway, leaving Russia to stare at an empty monitor.

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Authors Note:

I am currently hiding out in a bunker in an undisclosed location. I feel like this is nessesary since I have not updated in AGES and I only updated this short little thing.

If it is worth anything... I am sorry. I just got lazy, then life happened, then I gave up...and now you have this. Just please don't get your hopes up, it may be a while until I do this again. I am working full time now and doing that and having a social life, I don't spend enough time infront of the computer to actually write paragraphs. What you just read was done pretty much line by line.

Again, I apologize.


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